


Synced Cycles

by expolsion



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen, Growing Up, Menstruation, extremely empathetic fun ghoul, very very soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25725883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/expolsion/pseuds/expolsion
Summary: Motorbaby is getting older, but that doesn't mean she'll stop raising hell anytime soon.
Relationships: Fun Ghoul & Motorbaby | Grace (Danger Days)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 15





	Synced Cycles

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Life Lessons with Ghoul and Grace](https://archiveofourown.org/works/627307) by [casesandcapitals](https://archiveofourown.org/users/casesandcapitals/pseuds/casesandcapitals). 



> Grace is supposed to be in her late teens here, around 17/18. Do the math for everyone else, I just didn't feel like it lol.
> 
> I wanted to get more into the logistics of what a period looks like in the zones, but uh. I'm really tired so I just took the emotional angle. Maybe I will, but another night. 
> 
> Enjoy.

“I’m not fuckin’ helping you with the car again, Party!” Ghoul rubbed a hand over his eye in annoyance, continuing, “You run that thing too hard, I’m under the hood every goddamn day.”

Party waltzed back into the main room of the diner, waggling a finger in Ghoul’s direction. “I know what’s happening here,” he sing-songed. “It’s that time of the month again.”

“What?”

“Me and Kobra were talkin’ the other day. You got some kinda… Sympathy period.”

Ghoul blinked at him. “What??” he asked again.

Party finally stopped, standing next to him at the bar in the middle of the room. He propped his head up on his elbows, leaning over the counter. “You follow her.” He said it simply, factually, properly, no weird accent and pronouncing all the syllables. Like he was trying to be professional.

Ghoul just stared incredulously, unable to form a word other than ‘what’, and he felt that he had hit his quota for saying ‘what’ in this conversation. So finally, he just snapped his jaw shut and let Party continue.

“Grace has her cycle, and you follow her. When it’s coming up, you get all bitchy and achy and tired all the time. You never noticed?”

Ghoul sat back on his stool, turning over the statement in his mind. He mentally checked himself over: he woke up this morning and everything hurt, even he could admit he was a little more snappish than usual, and yup, he’d never wanted a snickers bar more in his damn life. But he wasn’t about to admit ANYTHING that easy. “You’re full of shit.”

Party’s head snapped up. He gaped like a fish for a second before blurting out, “No, I’m not! You two fight everyone constantly, _especially_ each other, but won’t talk to anyone else! BOTH of you hit the snack cabinet like it’s your fucking job, and you always end up napping together because you’re both so fucking tired.” He emphasized the last two words by hitting Ghoul on the shoulder with some old newspaper that had been on the counter since they found the place.

It was at this point that Ghoul decided he would no longer dignify this conversation and walked away. Party yelled after him one final “I’m right!”, which he pointedly ignored. 

* * *

But Ghoul couldn’t shake the conversation from his head. He started noticing stuff more, seeing it from the other guys’ perspectives. As much as he hated it, Party was right. Grace wouldn’t go near anyone else, and he didn’t want to either. They were the only ones in each other’s gravity, and they constantly sparred. Not that it made either one go far. The rest of the gang felt it was best to steer clear of the hormonal teenager and the overly empathetic guardian, and he couldn’t really blame them. It wasn’t that he knew her any better than the rest of them (they all probably knew her cycle better than she did, and Jet mostly always did supply runs for her.), but Ghoul was her go-to during the two week hell every month. 

He was chatting with Jet at a booth one morning when Grace emerged from her room sleep-groggy and grumpy. She didn’t say a word, just beelined for him, grabbed him by the wrist, and started tugging him towards his bed. He made eye contact with Jet, who mouthed _Day 2_ at him. (As if he didn’t know.) They all knew what it meant. Day 2 was the worst of the cramps. 

Ghoul sat on the bed and took off his shoes, a habit Party liked to make fun of, but shoes on the bed was where he drew the line, okay? Yeah, a lot of societal rules go down the shitter in the zones but shoes on the bed?? That one he was fucking keeping. 

Then after grabbing a beat-to-shit book that they had found on a recent raid from under its spot under his bed, he crawled into the corner. Once he was positioned against the wall, he opened his arms and let her settle where she wanted. This time, it was with the side of her face against his chest and her knees pulled up against her chest. Her arm wrapped around her legs, holding them in place, and a hand darted out to pull his arm into her side. He ended up with his hand tucked against the left side of her waist. Ghoul felt her sigh and relax, and knew from experience that she’d be asleep in 10 minutes. And that he’d be stuck there for at least an hour and a half. 

If he was being honest, he didn’t really mind. And if he was letting himself be sappy, their baby was growing up! They couldn’t carry her anymore, and he would bet that the rest of the guys felt the same way even if none of them would admit it. In some way, they all missed their baby. Now they had a teenager who was almost an adult, and the only time anyone got to hold her anymore was when she was particularly upset or excited. Jet rarely even got to do her hair anymore. Ghoul let out a sigh of his own, knowing that it was all natural and normal, she was growing into a fantastic, capable woman, blah blah blah… It’s just that sometimes he wished there was still a toddler who couldn’t properly say ‘Party Poison’. 

He squeezed her quickly, thankful she would still cuddle up to him, and finally opened up his book. 

* * *

Ghoul walked up to the nearest table and propped his elbows up on it, pushing back and stretching out like a cat. “Ugh, my fucking back.” He groaned pitifully. 

Kobra, who had happened to be occupying the booth and working on some piece of tech Ghoul would never understand, stood up abruptly. “I’m not touching this one with a ten foot fucking pole.”

Ghoul flipped him off as he walked away.

* * *

“Just keep your shit in your own fucking corner! This place is small enough as is, I don’t want your fucking paint on my shit!” 

Fun Ghoul and Party Poison stood facing each other as mirror images. Arms crossed, twin scowls across their lips. Ghoul couldn’t explain why he snapped, but it wasn’t like he was wrong. Party left his shit everywhere, and he was sick of it. 

Party opened his mouth to respond, fire blazing in his eyes, but Jet stepped in to try and calm the waters. “Guys, this is a little unnecessary. It doesn’t need to be a fight, Ghoul, can you just ask nicely for Party to try and keep his things in his designated area?”

“Oh, is asking nicely going to get the paint out of my favorite shirt?” Ghoul sniped. “It’s not like we can just do laundry on demand, you know, so if the _Magic of Apology_ worked, that would be fucking awesome.”

Grace scoffed from her seat at a booth, laughing at the scene unfolding before her. Unfortunately, that meant Ghoul whirled on her. “Like you’re fucking one to talk, I found socks of your behind the bar on FOUR separate occasions this week.”

“Well, if you weren’t such a neat freak and just acted like the rest of us, this wouldn’t be a fucking problem, would it? We live in the fucking desert! The hell are you even cleaning??” Grace snapped back. 

“IF THE REST OF YOU WOULD TRY NOT LIVING LIKE SLOBS FOR A FUCKING WEEK—”

“Why don’t YOU try LOOSENING UP FOR A WEEK—”

“FUN GHOUL.” Jet’s voice cut through the steadily rising tension. “You are the _adult_ here. Act like it.” 

Ghoul snapped his mouth shut and stared for a second, obviously biting back whatever harsh thing had been forming on his tongue. He turned on his heel and walked into the backroom, towards his bed. 

Grace’s mouth opened almost of its own accord, already spitting out defenses. “He was being completely ridiculous, I wasn’t even doing anything! All I did was laugh once—” Jet held up a hand and she fell silent.

Jet sighed, looking at her with his patented disappointed expression that she fucking hated. “No, Grace, you shouldn’t have risen to the bait either. Yeah, Ghoul was wrong too, but we’re teaching you how to handle conflict, not him. Unfortunately.” 

While he was talking, Party disappeared after Ghoul. Grace took a little solace in the fact that Ghoul was probably getting the same talk at this very moment. Still, she leaned back against the old vinyl of the bench and huffed, wanting to at least be sure that Jet knew she wasn’t fucking pleased about this reprimand. “But he yelled at me and I wasn’t fucking doing anything.”

Jet slid into the booth across from her. “I know, motorbaby. Sometimes it’s just like that, you know that. Yesterday you yelled at me for taking your last hair tie, and then you found it in the pocket of your jacket. Sometimes people are unreasonable because they’re overly emotional.”

Grace coughed awkwardly. “Yeah. Uh. Sorry about that. But… overly emotional?” 

Jet chuckled wryly. “We’ve been calling it his sympathy cycle. Whenever it’s your week, it’s like he mirrors you.” 

Grace laughed. “Are you serious?”

Jet just nodded. "As a drac attack."

She considered it for a moment before saying, “Oh my god, he totally does.” 

Jet laughed. “Yes, and you two are quite a lot to deal with. Together. At once.”

"Oh." Grace made a face, suddenly feeling sorry for all the hell she had raised in the past four years. “I bet.”

“Have you ever noticed that while you argue the most with Ghoul, he’s the one you gravitate to? You two drive us all crazy.” 

Party walked out of the back room before Grace could respond, quietly announcing, “You can go talk to him now.” 

Grace looked at Jet, a question passing between them, until he nodded. She got up slowly and walked past Party, brushing his arm with her hand and saying ‘thank you’ just loud enough for him to hear. 

But she paused in the doorway, suddenly unsure of what to do. Ghoul laid on his bed, facing the wall, but she could tell he wasn’t asleep. 

He told her this. He taught her to watch how the rest of them sleep, just in case something happened, so she would know how it looked when they weren’t. This wasn’t what he meant when he showed her, then it had been that Kobra had gotten seriously hurt and they were taking turns watching him. By “not sleeping” he meant to watch if Kobra died. But it came in handy some other times too, she thought.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, near the bend of his legs. “Hey.” she said.

Ghoul scrambled to sit up, pushing himself up against the headboard. (Well. The wall where a headboard would be.) “I’m sorry, motorbaby. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that.” The words came out in a big rush, as if he was worried about how things would play out if she spoke first. 

“It’s okay.” She mumbled, looking down at her feet, which were busy spreading sand across the floor. 

He nudged her gently with his foot. “Hey. Are you okay?”

Grace felt the tears bubble up, even though she knew she wasn’t really that upset. “I’m sorry, I just—” She started crying and felt him instantly moving, wrapping her up in his arms. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s not your fault—”

She let herself sniffle against his shoulder once before pulling it together again and extricating herself from the hug. “It’s not that. I’m not— You didn’t—” She cut herself off, frustrated she couldn’t find the right words. Ghoul just sat back on his heels and let her work through it.

“I’m not crying about the fight.” She said slowly, words finally slotting into the right places. “The crying was unrelated, just the—” She gestured in the general direction of her thighs. “Just the everything else going on.” He nodded understandingly, so she continued. “Um. Jet said you feel it too?”

Ghoul flushed a little. “I think so, yeah. I mean… it makes the most sense.”

She laughed quietly. “So you’re just _that_ empathetic, huh?”

He smiled. “Seems like.” But the smile dropped quickly. “Even in the beginning, I hated to see that you were hurting with something I couldn’t help with.” 

“So you developed pseudo-symptoms?”

“Not on purpose! It just kinda… happened.”

“Well, at least someone else in this gang gets it.” 

He pulled her into a hug again, a rougher one, one where he ruffled her hair and everything, before pulling back and saying, “We should probably go apologize to the rest of them, huh?”

“Yeah. You were really bitchy.”

“WE, kiddo. WE.” 

**Author's Note:**

> check me out [@dilf-frank](https://dilf-frank.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.
> 
> um also i know this is uh. a major change from anything and everything i've written in the past. sorry <3 I am an insane person now :)


End file.
